


Devotion

by alwayssunnyprompts



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Eating Disorders, Episode: s03e13 The Gang Gets Whacked (Part 2), Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 15:27:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11535063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwayssunnyprompts/pseuds/alwayssunnyprompts
Summary: "He doesn't know when "you" became "we" but they're here wrapped up together and they haven't really been one single person for as long as Mac can remember. They fit together: Mac and Dennis. One unit. We. Us."The events of "The Gang Gets Whacked" have consequences.





	Devotion

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy!

He hasn't eaten in almost 4 days.

He can feel the heavy pull of exhaustion in his limbs. The edges of the spaced-out cloud in his brain are burning with anxiety and disgust. Screw Frank for doing this to him. How could he let himself be pimped out to those disgusting old women? He remembers their hands on him. He couldn't shrug them off, wasn't allowed, they had paid for him. He felt powerless and helpless and even though he tried to shove the feelings down, they were too strong. He needed to feel control. So, he'd decided to stop eating. That way he'd be making his body look better while at the same time maintaining full power over the situation. He'd let his thoughts float away as they touched him, disconnecting his brain and body so that it seemed like they were touching a stranger, not him.

Afterwards he hadn't been able to reign in the feeling of dissociation, and he'd come home in a daze, unsure of how he had even gotten there. He'd immediately curled up in his bed, the emptiness in his stomach mirroring the emptiness in his head. He thinks he might pass out, but he feels tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. It's like they're the only part of him that isn't in free fall, the only part that's still connected to emotion. He feels achingly empty. The pain is physical. He starts crying, messy and uncontrollable, as his stomach aches and his head spins with dizziness. He's scared. He wants Mac. His vision starts to blur.  

* * *

Mac comes home still wearing the tracksuit, but not seething with the annoyance and panic he'd been feeling earlier. Dennis had left the bar as soon as the situation with the mob was finally solved. He'd been shaking, sweating. Mac could see it. But he didn't want to call him out in front of the gang, decided it'd be better to confront him at home. 

He tosses his key onto the counter and downs a glass of water.

"Dennis?" He calls into the silent apartment. He knows Dennis is home. He must be in his room, maybe sleeping or something. But his door isn't shut like it usually is. He walks over curiously, peering in. Dennis is half-sitting, half-lying on the bed. He's spread out without his guard up, and Mac can barely even tell that he's awake. Mac closes the distance between them, keeping his movements slow and calculated. 

"Dennis, buddy, are you okay?" Dennis's head perks up the tiniest bit. 

His eyes unfocused and drooping shut. Tears and snot are drying on his face. Shit.

"Dennis? Den," he grabs his face with both hands as his head lolls, "look at me."

His eyes open, bloodshot, all the usual harshness gone. They keep trying to close, roll into his head. Mac knows he's fatigued, and desperate to sleep, but he can't. Not until Mac has made sure he's okay. Mac strokes his cheeks with his thumbs, not bothering to be gentle, trying to keep him awake and focused. 

"Mac...hold me."

Mac wants to. Everything in him wants to wrap his arms around Dennis and never let go. Wants to make sure he's warm and safe and fed and loved forever. But he can't. He won't let himself. He knows Dennis doesn't mean it. Why would he? 

"Buddy, you're not thinking clearly. It's okay, you're so out of it from not eating and whatever else you've been doing. I'm going to get you some food, and I'll help you eat it. I need you to try to stay awake." 

"Don't wanna eat." There's the tiniest bit of petulant stubbornness underneath the exhaustion. 

Mac knows this, and he's already standing up to go to the kitchen. 

"Dennis, you have to. You could get sick. Worse than this. I'm going now to get something. Just rest for a few seconds." 

Mac rushes out of the room. He picks out a water bottle, a low-calorie cup of yogurt, peels and cuts an apple. As an afterthought, he grabs a jar of peanut butter. Dennis needs protein. He assembles the food on a tray, a nice one meant for breakfast in bed that he'd stolen from Dee's apartment. He heads back to Dennis's room, sets the tray on the side table, and sits on the bed.

He's in the same position Mac left him in: slumped over, propped up by pillows, nearly motionless as his head hangs loosely over his chest. Mac reaches over, lifting his chin gently.

Dazed blue eyes stare back at him. 

"Why don't we try the yogurt? It's small and you don't have to chew, so almost no energy involved. I got the low-calorie kind so you don't have to worry." He hates that he even has to say that to someone who hasn't touched food in days, but he has to get Dennis to eat it. "I'll feed it to you, okay? Let me know if you want me to stop."

He peels back the lid and decides to eat the first spoonful himself, enjoying it visibly and trying to encourage Dennis to do the same. He takes another.

"Here, Den." 

Dennis opens his mouth slowly, his reluctance slipping away.

Mac works the spoon in, careful not to bump any teeth or stick it in too quickly. Dennis presses his lips closed, licking the yogurt off, swallowing. He closes his eyes as Mac withdraws the spoon, head nearly falling back again. Mac is pleased, and they finish up with the yogurt soon. When they're done, he sets the empty cup aside.

"Hey, you did so good, Den. We'll take a break before the apple, okay?"

Dennis nods, reaching toward Mac, pulling at his shirt.

"Hold me." He says again, more forcefully this time, an edge of desperation in his voice. 

Mac sighs and reaches for one of the extra blankets they keep on Dennis's bed, wraps it around his shoulders. Rubs them up and down, trying to use the friction to generate some heat. Dennis responds by leaning forward suddenly, his forehead resting against Mac's chest, nuzzling close, his arms wrapping around Mac's waist as the blanket clings around his small form. Mac's heart swells with warmth. He pulls Dennis closer, into his lap, lets Dennis stay wrapped around his torso. He encircles Dennis with his arms protectively. They sit that way for a while, Dennis's shallow breathing warming Mac's chest. 

"Buddy, we should eat something else while we're here, okay?" He doesn't know when "you" became "we" but they're here wrapped up together and they haven't really been one single person for as long as Mac can remember. They fit together: Mac _and_ Dennis _. One unit. We. Us._

Dennis slowly releases Mac, leaning back against the pillows, eyes closing. Mac lets his gaze wander to the half-moons of darkness under his eyes, his angular jaw, his pale face and cheeks flushed with warmth, his lips soft and pink and full. He looks small and sick. But he still looks like Dennis: beautifully soft and heart-breakingly hurt. Mac wants to help him. But he can only do so much, and right now, that means feeding Dennis this food.

He grabs an apple slice and brings it up to Dennis's mouth, tracing the juice along his lips before gently nudging the fruit inside. Dennis makes a small humming noise as he bites. The rest of the apple, along with some peanut butter, goes down relatively easily. Dennis seems only slightly more alert, looks Mac straight in the eyes.

"Mac."

"Yeah, buddy?" 

"I love you." 

He's still far away and tears start streaming down his face. Dennis’s breath hitches and he launches into heaving sobs. Mac is numb and shocked. He knows that Dennis means it as a thank you, but hearing the words out loud for the first time ever is...other-worldly. He forces himself to stay in the moment, tries to focus on calming Dennis down.

"I love you...only you, Mac. Only you," he sounds hysterical. 

"Hey, hey. It's okay. Dennis, breathe with me."

Mac reaches up, brushes his hair back gently, pulls him into a messy hug. He feels tears soaking his shirt, but he doesn't care. 

"Mac, I love you." It's a murmur, a raspy reassurance.

"I know, Dennis." 

His breath is hot and fast against Mac's neck. He reaches his hand up and plays gently with Dennis's curls, massaging his head. He rocks them, swaying back and forth ever so slightly.

He wants to kiss the tears away. 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to submit prompts at alwayssunnyprompts.tumblr.com


End file.
